Watson In Pink
by justpayingattention
Summary: Sort of AU version of A Study In Pink, I came up with the idea of having John as a girl instead..  My first Sherlock fic, so I apologise for the amount I've stuck to the script! Please feel free to R&R..
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Jo.

**A/N:** _Okay, so this is my first Sherlock fic! I got the idea of having an AU version of A Study In Pink with a female John after watching the first two eps again with my best friend last night, so I just thought I'd give it a go! I'll probably still end up sticking to the script from the original show, and I'm sorry this first chapter's a bit boring! It'll hopefully get better from the next chapter onwards. _

_I'd really appreciate any reviews, as I've only written fic for Waterloo Road and gave up on a Doctor Who one so far! _

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><p>Looking around at her surroundings, all she could see was her colleagues crouched on the dusty ground, guns in their hands. She could hear the sound of bullets piercing the air as she watched, stood behind everyone.<p>

'Jo, _no_!' She turned her head as someone cried out and everything went into slow motion.

_BANG._

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><p>Jo Watson's eyes flew open and she sat up in bed, breaking into a sweat and breathing heavily. She looked around her to find that she wasn't in the dessert anymore, just the familiarity of her bedroom.<p>

'It was just a dream..' She muttered to herself, suddenly feeling wide awake. She lay back down and attempted to go back to sleep. Her breathing eventually evened back out after a while, and she slowly drifted back off to sleep.

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><p>Several hours later, Jo woke up again to find sunlight streaming through the gap in her curtains. She dragged herself out of bed, making a mental to-do list as she switched the coffee machine on and got a mug out. <em>I'll go to the job centre to see if there's anything there first, <em>she thought to herself. _Then I'll go to some of the estate agents, see if I can find a flat. _The coffee machine made a chiming sound, indicating that it was ready to use and Jo shoved the mug underneath it and pressed the button.

Jo sighed to herself and pulled now full cup of coffee out from underneath the machine. She limped over to the sofa, turning on her cheap, old TV as she sat down. She sat there for a while, sipping at her coffee and getting completely absorbed in whatever crap was on the TV in front of her. Eventually, she polished off her coffee and stood back up. She walked back into the kitchen, sighed again and put her mug on the counter next to the sink.

_I s'pose I'd better get dressed, then.._ She sighed to herself, headed back into her room and pulled open her wardrobe doors. She picked out a cream hoody, her favourite jeans and a pair of Converse and pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail, knowing that she wouldn't see anybody that she knew anyway.

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><p>A few hours later, Jo was walking through a park in central London with another coffee in her hand. She walked past a bench and she suddenly heard someone call out 'Jo? Joanne Watson?' She turned around to see a short, balding man with glasses sat on the bench behind her. She stopped, smiling at him and trying to work out who he was. 'Stamford, Mike Stamford.. We were at Barts together.' He said, offering a hand for her to shake. Suddenly, she remembered. 'Yes! Sorry! Hello, Mike.' Jo's smile widened and she took Mike's hand, shaking it. 'I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?' He asked her. 'I got shot.' Jo said plainly. 'You still at Barts, then?' she asked him, smiling again. 'Teaching now, yeah.' He nodded, smiling back at her. 'Bright young things like we used to be!' The two of them laughed. 'What about you? Staying in London until you got yourself sorted?'<p>

'I can't afford London on an Army pension.' Jo replied. 'You couldn't bear to be anywhere else, that's not the Jo Watson I knew!' Mike said. 'Couldn't Harry help?' Jo grimaced, shaking her head. 'Yeah, like that's going to happen.' 'You could get a flatshare or something?' Mike suggested, smiling at her again. 'Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?' Jo laughed, rolling her eyes. 'D'you know, you're the second person to say that to me that today!' Mike said, laughing too. 'Who was the first?' Jo asked him, interested.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Sherlock.

Sherlock Holmes unzipped the body bag and peered inside. 'How fresh?' He asked. 'Just in,' Molly Hooper replied as she walked around the table and stood next to him. '67 natural causes. Used to work here. I knew him, he was nice.'

Sherlock zipped the bag back up and turned to face her. 'Fine, we'll start with the riding crop,' he smiled. Molly smiled back at him, blushing slightly, and she exited the room. Sherlock just stood there for a moment, noticing the small blush that had appeared on her face when he smiled at her. He paced around the small, mortuary room, thinking. What was it that he'd done that had made her blush like that? Suddenly, it hit him. _No_, he thought to himself, shaking his head. _She couldn't.. fancy me, could she?_

He spent a few more minutes thinking, before she returned a few minutes later, handing him the riding crop with a smile still fixed to her face. Sherlock frowned, but decided not to say anything more about it. Instead, he allowed his hand to brush Molly's as he took the riding crop from her. He just wanted to see if he was right, and he was, judging by the look on her face when he looked up at her. 'Thank you,' he said, smiling again. 'I-I'll be back in a minute, I just need to sort something out,' Molly squeaked, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink again. She hurried out of the door and Sherlock smirked to himself, feeling satisfied with the fact that he was right. Still smirking, he made his way back over to the body and unzipped the bag. He drew in a breath, trying to think of a way to get all of his frustrations out in order to use the riding crop properly. Finally, he decided to focus on the ongoing feud between himself and his brother, Mycroft.

Sherlock looked down at the body, raised the riding crop above his head and thought about everything that had happened between him and Mycroft. He didn't even need to do anything more, he could feel the riding crop slicing through the air and repeatedly hitting the body. He screwed his face up in anger, and he heard the door open. He didn't bother to look up as he thought it'd just be another one of Molly's nosy co-workers, coming in to check up on him again. 'So, rough day was it?' He heard Molly ask him nervously.

Sherlock looked up at her, slightly surprised. 'I need to know what bruises form in the next 20 minutes,' he said plainly, looking back down at the riding crop in his hand. 'A man's alibi depends on it. Text me.' He put the riding crop down and picked his notebook up, starting to scribble notes furiously. He could see Molly nodding out of the corner of his eye. 'Listen, I was wondering, maybe later..' Sherlock looked up at her, still trying to write notes down. 'When you're finished..' Sherlock frowned and stopped writing. 'Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing lipstick before,' he said to her.

Molly looked down awkwardly, and mumbled 'I, er, refreshed it a bit.' _Shit. She _does_ fancy me._ Sherlock frowned again, his eyes widening. 'Sorry, you were saying..?' He looked back down at his notebook, his pen poised above the paper. 'I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee,' Molly said. Sherlock looked back up again, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. He needed to get away from her so he could get back on with his work. 'Black, two sugars please. I'll be upstairs.' He walked away from her and out of the room as quickly as he possibly could.

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><p>A few minutes later, Sherlock was upstairs, examining some samples from the body when he heard a knock and the sound of door opening again. He didn't look up, thinking it'd be Molly coming back to interrogate him about something. He could hear two sets of footsteps and they stopped a few metres away from where he was stood. He turned around, looking over to see who was stood there. He noticed that Mike Stamford was stood in front of him, with a woman that he didn't recognise beside him. She was tall, about 5'9, with dark, chestnut brown hair and piercing blue eyes. If he was any kind of normal man, he would have found her attractive, but he cleared his mind of any thoughts like that. He could notice that she had a slight limp when she walked, and she had a few freckles dusted across her face.<p>

Just as Sherlock went to turn around again, he heard the woman say 'bit different from my day.' Sherlock raised his eyebrows slightly, sitting down in the chair next to where he was working. 'Mike, can I borrow your phone?' He asked, not looking up. 'There's no signal on mine.' 'What's wrong with the landline?' Mike said, stepping forward so that he was stood a bit closer to where Sherlock was sat. Sherlock turned his head and said 'nothing, I prefer to text.' 'Sorry, it's in my pocket,' Mike replied, walking forwards again and standing even closer towards him.

'Here, you can use mine,' the woman said, reaching into her pocket and producing out a silver phone which she held out for Sherlock to take. 'Oh, thank you.' Sherlock said, standing up and starting to walk over towards her. 'Old friend of mine, Joanne Watson,' Mike said, pointing to Jo. 'Jo,' she said, correcting him. She smiled at Sherlock as he reached her, keeping her phone held out for him. Sherlock took the phone and slid the phone up, starting to text. 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' He asked her, not looking up.

A stunned look crossed Jo's face as Sherlock typed furiously on her phone. 'I'm sorry, what?' Sherlock looked up at her, hitting the send button. 'Which one was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?' He registered the shocked look on her face and smirked to himself again. 'A-Afghanistan,' Jo stammered, looking down. The door opened again, and Molly walked into the room, carrying Sherlock's mug of coffee in her hand. 'Ah, Molly!' Sherlock exclaimed, smiling at her. 'Coffee, thank you.' He took the mug from her and examined her face. 'What happened to the lipstick?' He asked, frowning again. 'It wasn't working for me,' Molly muttered, biting her lip.

Sherlock's expression didn't change, and he handed Jo her phone. 'Really? I thought it was a big improvement.. Your mouth looks too small now.' He turned around, pulled a face and headed back to his seat, sipping on his coffee. 'Okay..' He heard Molly say as he sat down, and she left the room, closing the door behind her.

'How d'you feel about the violin?' He asked Jo, knowing exactly why Mike had brought her here. 'Sorry, what?' She said, sounding slightly confused. Sherlock smirked again and put his mug down on the table. 'I play the violin when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't talk for days on end.' He turned around and looked at her, studying her face. 'Does it bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.' Still looking at her, he gave her one of the smiles that he used when he needed to get Molly to allow him into the mortuary.

Jo's eyes widened, and she looked at both of the two men stood in the room with her. 'Did you tell him about that?' She asked Mike. 'Not a word,' Mike replied, smiling. She turned back to Sherlock, still looking rather confused. 'Then who said to you about flatmates?'


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Jo.

Sherlock turned around, picked his coat and scarf up and put them on. 'I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a hard man to find a flatmate for and here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan.' He turned back around and walked towards where Mike and Jo were stood. 'Not hard to work out, was it?'

Jo just looked at him, raising an eyebrow. 'How did you know about Afghanistan?' Sherlock ignored her question, deciding to explain later, picked up his phone and put it in his pocket. 'I've got my eye on a nice little place in central London, we'll meet there tomorrow.' He stood next to Jo for a second and added 'Sorry, got to dash. I left my riding crop in the mortuary.' He looked down and carried on walking towards the door. 'Is that it?' Jo asked him. 'Is that what?' Sherlock asked, turning back around and looking at her. 'We've only just met and we're going to look at a flat together.' Jo replied, frowning. Sherlock just shot her another smile, looking right into her eyes. 'Problem?'

Jo bit her lip, studying the detective's face. He was incredibly handsome with curly, black hair, and beautifully sculpted cheekbones. He had clear, blue eyes too, just like hers. _Stop it!_ Jo thought to herself. _You can't fancy your flatmate!_ 'We don't know a thing about each other, I don't know where we're meeting, and I don't even know your name,' she somehow managed to say.

Sherlock just took a breath, not looking away from her eyes for a second. 'I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?' Jo's mouth fell open, and Sherlock took this as a sign to leave the room, closing the door behind him.

A couple of seconds later, he returned again, poking his head around the door to say 'the name's Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221b Baker Street. Afternoon!' He winked at Jo and Mike, then closed the door again. Jo turned around to Mike, her mouth still hanging open. 'Yeah, he's always like that.' Mike said, laughing.

Jo and Mike managed to find their way out, said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. As she sat in the taxi on the way back to her flat, Jo was still trying to work out what had just happened. How the hell had Sherlock been able to take one look at her and know practically everything about her?

'That's five quid then, please,' the cab driver said as he pulled up outside her block of flats. Jo quickly pulled a fiver out of her jeans pocket and smiled at the cabbie. 'Cheers.' She opened the door and got out of the taxi, reached into her bag and pulled out her key. She pushed the door open to the building and limped inside. Luckily, her flat was on the first floor, so she turned the corner and unlocked the door. She was actually quite excited about looking at the 221b tomorrow, as she hadn't had a flatmate for a few years. However, she did feel quite nervous because she was going to look at a flat with someone she'd only just met.

Jo tossed her keys onto one of the counters in the kitchen after she'd locked back up, walked into the living room and collapsed on the sofa. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and flicked through it, completely forgetting that Sherlock had sent a text from it until she went onto her sent messages and saw a text to a number that she didn't recognise. It read:

_If brother has green ladder arrest brother.  
>SH<em>

_What the hell's that supposed to mean?_ Jo thought to herself, confused.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Jo.

**A/N:** _I'm so sorry I've taken ages to update this, I've just been trying to get my Waterloo Road fic updated and write a new one-shot whilst trying to revise for the 3 exams that I have coming up this week! This one's a bit of a boring/in-betweeny bit like the first chapter, I promise I'll get to the good stuff in the next few chapters!_

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><p>Jo slept well that night. She seemed to just drift off happily into a deep, dreamless sleep. That is, until she was woken up at half past eight the following morning by the sound of her phone buzzing on her bedside table. She slowly opened her eyes and reached out, picking the phone up. She squinted at the brightness of the phone's screen (way too bright for <em>this<em> early in the morning) and found that she had a text from an unknown number. Cautiously, she opened the text. It read:

_Baker Street, 10:30. See you there._

_SH_

Jo smiled slightly to herself and placed her phone back on the bedside table. 'Just half an hour more's sleep..' She grumbled, setting her alarm clock for 9am and pulling the covers back over her.

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><p>Jo opened her eyes again sleepily as soon as she could hear the piercing sound of her alarm clock filling her ears. '<em>Why<em> did I agree to this again?' She muttered to herself as she switched the alarm clock off and dragged herself out of bed. She groggily rubbed her blue eyes and sloped into the bathroom. _Breakfast can wait_, she thought to herself as she stepped into the shower. She turned the shower on and let the water cascade down her shoulders, planning what to wear as she at least wanted to look presentable.

Jo quickly washed herself and her hair and got out of the shower. She checked what the time was again, just to make sure she had plenty of time to eat, get dressed and to sort her hair and makeup out. She wrapped a towel around herself and headed back into her bedroom. She was too tired to eat, and she wasn't particularly hungry, either. She opened her wardrobe doors and scanned through her clothes for a few minutes. Eventually, she decided on a pair of skinny jeans, her favourite top, a black leather jacket and some flats. She laid them out on the bed and put her underwear on, then pulled her hairdryer out of one of the drawers.

Jo sleepily dried her hair, still only half-awake. She quickly put the hairdryer away and brushed her hair, her dark brown ringlets hanging just below her shoulders. _Sod it_, she thought. _I'll just leave it like this for today.._ She slowly got dressed and pulled her makeup bag out, heading back into the bathroom. When she reached the bathroom, she put her makeup bag down on the sink, taking out her favourite mascara and lipstick. She took her time to do her makeup, seeing as it was only 9:30 the last time she'd checked her watch.

When she was finished, Jo put her makeup bag back in her bedroom and grabbed her handbag from where she'd left it the previous night. She checked that she had plenty of money for a cab and a cup of coffee, and she grabbed her keys, heading out of the door. She locked up and walked out of her block of flats and onto the busy London street. The wind lightly ruffled her hair and Jo stepped out onto the kerb. She stuck her hand out, hailing a black cab. She smiled at the driver as she stepped into the back seat of the taxi. '221b Baker Street, please,' she grinned as she clipped in her seatbelt.

The taxi lurched slightly into movement and they sped down the roads. Jo pulled her phone out of her pocket, deliberating whether or not she should text Sherlock to let him know that she was on her way. She decided against it, thinking that he would probably already know that she was. The cab journey was fairly short, and the driver soon stopped outside 221b. 'That's four quid then, love,' he said, smiling at her.

Jo pulled out four pound coins from her purse and handed them to the cabbie. 'Thanks!' She got out of the cab and closed the door behind her. She noticed that there was some kind of coffee shop within a few metres of the flat and Sherlock wasn't outside yet, so she decided to run in and quickly grab a cup of coffee to wake her up a little bit. She quickly went in, paid for her coffee and waited for them to make it, and she was in and out of the shop in five minutes flat.

Jo quickly walked out of the coffee shop and back down the road as she saw another cab pull up outside. A smile crossed her face as Sherlock stepped out of it, turned around and smiled at her just as she reached the flat. Jo felt her stomach flip slightly as she walked up the step with Sherlock, still smiling a little bit. She decided to dismiss it as nerves, since she was looking at a flat with almost a complete stranger.


End file.
